


It Will Have Been Worth It

by queersuperteens (ruffboi)



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Multi, OT3, Polyamory, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-24 00:54:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6135845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruffboi/pseuds/queersuperteens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As a girl, Eliza Schuyler half-hated her mark, largely because she had two of them.</p><p>"You will have so much love in your life," Alex Hamilton's mother would murmur to him when he was little. He wasn't sure he believed her, especially after she died, but he never felt ashamed for the two names that were all that he had to his own.</p><p>Jack Laurens was pretty sure the reason his father was never happy with him was the second name wrapped around his ankle.</p><p>
  <b>Unfinished, likely will not be resumed.</b>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am a sucker for soulmate AUs and polyamory, what can I say?
> 
> I know there's the "Major Character Death" tag, because this is Hamilton, but I promise there will be sweet fluff first!

As a girl, Eliza Schuyler half-hated her mark, largely because she had two of them.

It wasn't unheard of, of course, and her mother reassured her of that regularly. Sometimes a person was fated to lose their first soulmate early, or to find another in the twilight hours of their life. Sometimes they meant that one would be a dear friend, and another a husband. Sometimes both were friends, or siblings.

Eliza's own sister, Angelica, had "Elizabeth Schuyler" in delicate script on the back of her shoulder. She'd always felt guilty that Angelica's name wasn't on hers, but her sister always laughed when she said as much.

"All it means is that you'll need me a lot more than I'll need you," Angelica would say confidently as she combed Eliza's hair, or worked on her needlepoint, or read the latest philosophical text she'd managed to get her hands on. "And as long as you're happy, I'm happy. All right?"

"All right," Eliza would say, and kiss Angelica's cheek, and that would be that.

At least, until the next time she bathed, or changed her shift, and then there they'd be, one scrolling confidently up her thigh, and the other curving around her hip: "Alexander Hamilton" and "John Laurens".

She knew, deep down, that neither were going to be a platonic soulmate, a kinship next to siblinghood. She knew she would love them both, and she hated the various ways her imagination could come up with for how she'd lose one and find the other. She hated those two names, because now from the moment she met one of them, she'd know there was a limit on their happiness. Would he be jealous that another man's name was part of her? That her heart would never be just his? What if that ruined _everything_?

Eventually, though, as she grew, she decided that it wasn't worth worrying about. God would provide. When she lost either of them, they would be waiting for her in Paradise, and He wouldn't give her anything more than she could handle. She'd be happy.

She hoped.

* * *

There were all sorts of soulmate situations on Nevis. People who'd married out of necessity before meeting their soulmates and unable to do anything about it when they finally did. People who did something about it anyway, whether sneaking around or removing the problematic spouse from the equation. People who had no soulmate, and people who had two, or even three names scrawled on their skin. People whose soulmates were a different race. People who didn't even speak the same language. 

Alex Hamilton's mother, God rest her, had loved his father desperately, his name encircling her calf. As far as Alex knew, though, his father didn't have anyone's name on him - which probably explained how he could've run off and left them the way he did. All in all, Alex Hamilton wasn't too much of an oddity with the two names etched on him; "Elizabeth Schuyler" scrolled across his heart, and "John Laurens" climbing his inner arm. 

"You will have so much love in your life," his mother would murmur to him when he was little. "You will be _so_ happy." He wasn't sure he believed her, especially after she died, but he never felt ashamed for the two names that were all that he had to his own.

Still, when he finally escaped to the colonies, he was careful not to let either show. He was free with his emotions and opinions, but those names were his alone to know. His to treasure. His to remember and guard and never share, the way he remembered and guarded the memory of his mother.

And anyway, with a revolution starting to bubble up, he thought it unlikely he'd even get the chance to meet either of these people, let alone discover why their names marked his skin.

* * *

Jack Laurens was pretty sure the reason his father was never happy with him was the second name wrapped around his ankle.

The first was fine - "Elizabeth Schuyler" across the back of his neck in a delicate, feminine hand. That was expected and appropriate. Henry Laurens would have been pleased and proud of his son for that name, especially if Miss Schuyler ended up being related to the Schuylers in Albany.

No, it was the second name that caused the trouble. "Alexander Hamilton", wrapped around his ankle. When he was very little, it wasn't any cause for concern. While it wasn't as common as having one's future spouse as your future soulmate, a sibling or close friend wasn't unheard of, nor were two names.

But as he got older, and didn't show enough interest in the right things… Well.

That's when Henry stopped being pleased by anything Jack did.

Jack still tried, though. He tried so hard to make his father proud, to live up to the expectations placed on him. He thought maybe he could change - his friend Martha was kind enough (and maybe a little in love with him, he wasn't sure) to offer to help. It didn't change anything, except his marital status when she ended up pregnant. It was still so easy to forget the delicate script on the back of his neck, that he never saw. The name around his ankle, that's the one that kept him up nights, wondering who he was. If he would feel the same. If Jack even _wanted_ him to feel the same.

By the time he boarded a ship to the colonies to join the revolution, he half hoped he'd never meet either one of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY SO THERE IS MORE TO THIS INCOMING but I wanted to get some of this out and out of my drafts. First meetings coming soon!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, everyone! You've all been so lovely. It's a bit short - largely because this one was giving me a bit of trouble and I'd rather give you something now than hold you up longer trying to finish the next few scenes after this. Enjoy!

"You just don't want to overwhelm people before they buy into what you're trying to sell them," Burr said, arm draped over Alexander's shoulders as they walked towards the tavern the students seemed to prefer. "Besides, voicing the wrong opinion to the wrong person can get a man shot these days."

Burr let his arm drop as he pushed the door open, letting the raucous sounds of drinking students and young revolutionaries tumble out into the street.

"What _time_ is it?" one young man called drunkenly at the top of his lungs, standing on a bench on the far side of the room.

"Showtime!" his friends chorused back at him, laughing. Alexander couldn't quite tear his eyes away from the man's face, covered in freckles and sporting a wide grin. It was like the world stopped in that moment, leaving just him and the man with the curly ponytail and freckles as numerous as the stars in the sky.

Alexander may have been a bit inclined to melodramatic poetics in moments like this.

Time seemed to start up again as he more felt than heard Burr's sigh next to him. "As I was saying…" Burr murmured, for Alexander's ears alone, but Alexander couldn't quite find the words to respond. He should say something, keep up the conversation with Burr - he'd be a good person to know, probably, but--

But the young man with the freckles was still standing on the bench, throwing back his drink and posing like he was about to give some sort of speech, and Alexander wanted to hear every word.

"I'm John Laurens," he started, and the world fell out from under Alexander, those words echoing in his head so loudly that he couldn't hear anything else.

_John Laurens. John Laurens. John Laurens._

Alexander resisted the urge to press a hand to the mark on his arm, but just stood there motionless until the man-- _John_ noticed them and darted over, only wobbling a little, slinging a familiar arm around Burr's shoulders.

"Well if it ain't the prodigy of Princeton College!" John Laurens crowed, all but dragging Burr over to his friends. Alexander shook off his stillness and followed, just listening as the three men tried unsuccessfully to cajole some revolutionary sentiments from Burr. 

"I'd rather not, if that's alright with you," Burr said firmly. "No need to stir up potential trouble tonight."

"You're stalling, Burr," John protested. "We're on the verge of revolution, and you're trying to do anything but take a side!"

"That's not fair--" Burr started, but Alexander couldn't keep from blurting out the first thing that came to mind, to try to set himself apart by having a stance, by standing on the side John Laurens was on.

"Burr, if you stand for nothing, what'll you _fall_ for?" he asks, his posture stiff, his eyes down, his voice a little too loud. When he flicks his gaze up to scan the faces suddenly turned towards him, Burr is looking at him with a largely inscrutable expression, John's friends are looking a little confused and a little impressed, and John…

John Laurens is looking at him like he'd just done some sort of grand magic, half-smiling and a little awestruck.

"Who's this kid, Burr?" the big man with the bombastic voice asked.

"Ah," Burr said calmly. "Alexander Hamilton, may I introduce Hercules Mulligan, Gilbert du Motier, the Marquis de Lafayette, and--"

"John Laurens," Alexander said unthinkingly, then quickly covered by adding, "I heard you as we came in."

John's half smile widened into a grin and he held out his hand to Alexander. "Have a drink with us, Hamilton," he said. "Betcha got a lot to say about things, huh?" In the back of his mind, Alexander noticed the knowing grin on Mulligan's face, the open curiosity on Lafayette's, and even the quiet amusement on Burr's, but he could only really focus on John, right there, filling a part of his life that he hadn't even known was empty.

"Yeah. Yeah, I do," Alexander said, and reached out to shake John's hand. John shook it, but didn't let go afterwards, just turning and pulling Alexander with him into the warmth and camaraderie of his group of friends.

For the first time since he'd heard it brewing, Alexander felt like they might survive this revolution after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will make no promises as to the timing of the next chapter, but with any luck it'll be within the next week or so. Thank you all so much for your lovely comments, they definitely kept me going while I fought to get this one laid out how I wanted it. :)


End file.
